


Whatever I Could Do

by Fudgyokra



Series: Kinktober 2019 [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 13:17:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: "Come on, Robin." The command is gentle. Their movements are not.





	Whatever I Could Do

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not have listened to "Daddy Issues" by The Neighbourhood while writing this. (Spoiler alert: I did.) Title from that.
> 
> Day 16: Nipple Play* | Frottage* | Body Worship | Sixty-nine

“Come on, Robin.” The command is gentle. Their movements are not.

An upward tick of his hips encourages Damian to make a sound, which he stubbornly stifles with his lip between his teeth. Dick would chastise, if only because he likes to hear him, but it’s difficult enough for Damian to submit to bodily desires in the first place, so he doesn’t push more than he already has.

This had been Damian’s idea, which is a fact that surprises Dick now as much as it had then, but now that they’re down to it, he finds it endearing__. __While they’d drifted into a pattern more encompassing of Dick’s interests, today was a test of Damian’s budding preferences, which he was only just beginning to come to terms with. There was a sense of pride Dick earned from coaxing the curiosity out of his little bird.

“You can make noise,” he tries again, this time speaking with a softer edge. “Don’t be afraid.” Damian huffs like the suggestion is idiotic.

Thin legs are parted on either side of Dick’s lap, and although they’re both stripped to their underwear and securely locked inside his apartment, the rawer type of exposure Damian simply isn’t used to is the kind that stems from emotions or personal desires. He isn’t sure how to react to receiving pleasure from those things.

Tenderly, Dick slides his hands along Damian’s ribcage, thumbing at his nipples and watching with a fond smile as he pants a little in response. “Like this?” he asks, and gets a quick nod within a second. “You like it?” He’s aiming for a verbal answer when he rolls the bud between thumb and forefinger, gently at first, then growing in pressure until Damian rolls his hips against the clothed erection Dick’s been sporting for the better half of an hour. He’ll accept that just as well, he supposes.

They’re usually so quiet when they do this that the audible moan he gets by tugging a bit makes him twitch in his boxers. It’s a barely-there sound, short and soft, but it excites him all the same, enough for him to let the compliments tumble out—the usual stream of _good boy, you’re doing so good._

Damian doesn’t remark on his grammar, hadn’t since the first time, which seems so long ago and yet wasn’t. Instead, he huffs the closest thing to a laugh he’s capable of and grips Dick’s shoulders hard when he attempts a more substantial grind. The movement rubs them together perfectly, and as an added bonus gets Damian to suck in a startled breath so sweet that Dick can’t help digging his nails into the pink flesh between his fingers just to hear it again.

“Like that,” Damian whispers, and so he obeys.

“You like it to hurt a little bit? Or do you just like the pressure?” Dick chances a twist, and Damian shivers.

“Either one is—is—adequate.”

Dick smiles. It’s not often he gets Damian to stutter, and, as usual, the detached word choice softens him up until he’s a puddle of sap, by all rights. He never forgets how much he loves his boy, especially not at times like these.

He gathers Damian’s hips in both hands and pulls him down, rocking his own hips upward in a series of harsh mock-thrusts until his head lolls on the back of the couch, his face tilted toward the ceiling. Unashamed, he moans, as if to prove they can be as loud as they want.

Damian leans against his chest and grips harder on his shoulders, trying with frankly adorable levels of concentration to match him shift for shift. His breathing stutters when he finally gets it right, and his thighs tighten on either side of Dick’s lap, trying to hold himself steady as much as he’s trying to pin the man down.

Dick keeps still, despite the broiling desire to fuck him proper, knowing damn well he can’t, or won’t. Damian has asked, only one time. Dick hates that he had to say no. For now, though, this is perfectly fine.

Damian nips at his neck, exploring the area more than delivering any sort of sensation, but Dick hums approvingly anyway, telling him he’s on the right track. When the boy’s mouth glides over the pulse point, Dick presses a hand to Damian’s lower back and hums again, deeper this time.

From this angle, he can hear the minute hitches and puffs of Damian’s breath while he works, trying to gracefully kiss and hump at the same time, at which he fails, but in a way so boyish and charming Dick feels almost guilty for enjoying it. He supposes he’s way past the point where feeling guilty does anything to help the situation, but he can’t let his Robin fall by the wayside when he begs, in his own unique way, for more sensation with nothing more than a deliberate arch against Dick’s body.

His fingers slide past where their skin meets, nails dragging lightly over tender, raised nipples until Damian actually manages a sound like a keen, albeit through pursed lips. He looks down between them, his hips having lost rhythm when Dick stopped moving, so that he’s well and truly just going on animalistic instinct when he ruts up against him, trying to chase a pleasure they both know is building quickly.

With a barely-restrained growl, Dick puts his hands back on Damian’s small hips and holds him down in his lap, rocking himself between his legs hard enough that he’s probably leaving bruises on the insides of his thighs. In tandem, he leans in and pulls at one nipple with his teeth, delighting in the sudden way Damian’s hand flies up and twists in Dick’s hair with unrestrained enjoyment. He’s glad for the level of trust Damian places in him, to be so vulnerable and honest about how he’s feeling. It’s something they have both had to work for, and Dick considers the payoff worth every second.

He rolls the tip of his tongue around the peak, skin pebbled but giving under his ministrations. Damian shivers the entire time, especially once Dick latches on with his lips and simply sucks, pulling away only once the bud is puffed and red. After that, he moves to the other, fingers rising to toy with the one he’s just done the favor of making more sensitive.

One more nip of his nails against that reddened flesh finally earns him a pretty whine, along with an erratic spasm of Damian’s hips that tells Dick he has finished. He pulls back enough to watch the inexperienced, clumsy way Damian rides it out, taking what friction he can from Dick’s clothed erection with tiny jerks until he suppresses his moan of satiation by pursing his lips.

It sounds like heaven to Dick, who’s close enough to bursting from the sight of him, but he maintains patience and waits for Damian’s breathing to even out somewhat before he closes his fingers around his wrist. Against his temple, he whispers another proud, “Good boy.”

Damian scoots back and wriggles his own fingers past the waistband of Dick’s boxers, taking him in hand to finish him off. Dick focuses on the careful strokes; he likes the softness, the careful way Damian treats each detail. Within a minute, he spills himself over Damian’s fist, jerking into his grip with a groan from behind clenched teeth.

It’s so incredible that coming out of it requires a bit more focus than he’s used to, but once he returns to earth with both feet on the ground, Damian has already clambered off and is preparing for the shower he always takes afterward.

Dick smiles, dutifully ignoring the loving ache in his chest that situates itself right when he needs it least.

“Are you going to join me this time?” Damian asks, concealing his genuine curiosity with a tacked-on, “It makes no difference to me, but make the choice before the water gets cold.”

Dick laughs, fondly. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’m coming.”


End file.
